Chinese men | Speaking of China

Chapter 38: No Job, No Visa

: My job and visa in China got slaughtered during one brutal afternoon conversation.

Jing Ke, sent by the Yan State to assassinate Qin Shihuang (the despotic future emperor of the first united China, under the Qin Dynasty), knew he was heading to his own slaughter. He wrote, in his poem titled “On Yi River Ferry” (渡易水歌):

Winds moan, Yi water chilly,
风萧萧兮易水寒，
Warrior once gone, never again return.
壮士一去兮不复还.

He knew the warrior — himself — would never come back. He knew what would happen.

I should have known my job at the Chinese Internet company would be slaughtered.

By early January, my contract had already expired. Yet, Mr. CEO refused to discuss my contract, shooing me away. “Sorry, I have other matters to attend to now.” He said something like this every time I breached the subject with him.

The secretary, who had processed my visa before, let my paperwork sit idle on her desk. By January 22, 2003, she had still done nothing — while I began to wonder if my visa was even valid.

But the most piercing evidence came from the company website. I opened it up on January 22, to find new English content written by someone else, instead of me.

Just as Jing Ke faced Qin Shihuang, so I faced Mr. CEO, the afternoon of January 22 — a standoff that felt more like a slow execution. Continue reading “Chapter 38: No Job, No Visa”

Share/Save

China Blogs by Western Women who Love Chinese Men

(NOTE: For the most up-to-date list of these blogs, read my 2018 update of this list)

March is women’s history month, and just last week, March 8 was international women’s day. As we remember the women who make a difference in our world, there’s one minority voice we shouldn’t forget — the Western women who love Chinese men.

China blogs are still a man’s world, so our voices are often lost in the comments and trackbacks. But Western women who love Chinese men have a unique perspective to a woman’s experience in China — which makes their blogs even more valuable in the blogsphere. Here’s my list, in alphabetical order (according to the blog’s name). Continue reading “China Blogs by Western Women who Love Chinese Men”

Share/Save

Ask the Yangxifu: Indirect Dating and Chinese Men

Western woman and Chinese man — How do you know if a Chinese man wants to date you -- or is dating you?

Anonymous asks:

I am an American female and began an international graduate program this January here in the US. Most of my classmates are foreign and I’ve gotten the attention from a Chinese male. There is a good chance our relationship is going to blossom, so I have a few questions for you.

At first, it didn’t dawn on me that he was interested, so he stepped it up a notch. He started waiting for me after class, sitting near me in class and initiating conversations. We have spent some time together outside of class. Our most recent encounter was a trip to the movies, where he picked me up and got a chance to meet my grandfather (he was very excited to meet Grandpa). He is currently on a trip for spring break and has phoned me a few times.

Here is the kicker and where my questions come in. He is very indirect. While I’m 99% sure he is courting me, he has never expressed in words his desire to date me (although it is still early). Should I wait for him to initiate that conversation? Additionally, he asks questions in a very indirect manner. For example, instead of asking if he can walk walk with me to the library, he asks where I am going next… I think it is a combination of his culture combined with being male haha. His English is also very choppy, so we have a communication barrier. I do not speak or read Chinese at all.

His indirectness combined with limited knowledge of the English language is difficult for me to understand his intentions at times (especially when he is hinting that he’d like to get together). I am an outgoing and honest person, so it’s difficult for me to know how to react to him. He is also very introverted and independent, kind of a homebody.

I guess I’m writing you for some advice. I don’t want to be too forward by asking him direct questions or disclose too much information that may turn him off. My instincts are telling me to find the balance between expressing interest and letting things happen naturally. I don’t know him well enough yet to know how I feel about him, but so far he’s caught my attention. Any advice/suggestions would be helpful. Continue reading “Ask the Yangxifu: Indirect Dating and Chinese Men”

Share/Save

Interview on China Travel 2.0

Jocelyn Eikenburg in Xintiandi, Shanghai — China Travel 2.0 interviewed me about travel to China, my China impressions and more.

Winser Zhao of China Travel 2.0 interviewed me, and the article — called Meet a Yangxifu and Ask for More About China – Jocelyn and Her Love Story — just appeared on their blog today. Some of the things I talk about include:

My first impressions/experiences in China
Why I love China
How I learned Chinese
My Chinese inlaws’ first impressions of me
My own travel experiences, and advice on traveling in China

If you have a chance, have a look. And if you like what you read, feel free to share with your friends.

Thanks, as always, for reading. 🙂 And special thanks to Winser Zhao for thinking of me for this interview.

Share/Save

Chapter 36: Leaning on Your Chinese Friends and Lovers

Western woman and Chinese woman, leaning on each other — When you're helpless in China -- because of language, or even a sprained foot -- sometimes all you can do to survive is lean on your friends

When you live as a foreigner in China, sometimes you can’t help but feel like a child. Maybe it’s because you can’t speak the language — or stumble through it, like a toddler playing with sounds and words. Maybe it’s because you don’t read the signs, and feel as lost as a little kid, abandoned by their parents in a strange world. Maybe it’s the culture, where you commit the sort of faux pas that your parents would have admonished you about after visiting grandma’s house.

And, maybe, it’s because you depend on your Chinese friends and lovers so much, that they become your caregivers all over again.

When my left ankle was put into a cast — after clumsily spraining it outside a shopping center in Hangzhou — the hospital had no crutches, and no protective sheath that would allow me to walk outside. I had leaned on my Chinese friend Chris for a lot of things before — advice, Chinese lessons, help at the hospital — but now I leaned on him, physically, just to leave the hospital grounds.

Yet, leaning could only take me so far. Continue reading “Chapter 36: Leaning on Your Chinese Friends and Lovers”

Share/Save

Western Wives, Chinese Husbands — Guest Interview Piece at Middle Kingdom Life

Western wife and Chinese husband on wedding day, walking under a trellis — Check out “Western wives, Chinese husbands” at Middle Kingdom Life, a collaborative piece by me, Susan Chi, Melanie Gao and Jessica Larson-Wang

ReadÂ this collaborative piece on interracial dating and marriages of Western women and Chinese men I did with Susan Chi, Melanie Gao, and Jessica Larson-Wang — for Middle Kingdom Life. It’s called “Western Wives, Chinese Husbands.”

We answer these questions:

Are Chinese men generally attracted to Western women? Are they representative of Chinese men in general?
Is there anything culturally unique about the psychology of Chinese men, as a group, that Western women should be aware of?
How are dating etiquette and customs different in China in regard to men than in the States?
What is the best way to find English-speaking Chinese men?
What are Chinese men looking for in a wife?
What are the advantages of having a Chinese husband in China?
What are some common problems Western women face with a Chinese husband?

A big thanks to Susan, Melanie and Jessica (who put up with my copious e-mails and crazy requests for things like photos)! Your voices truly made this a valuable piece.

So, take a look at the article — and share it with your friends, too. Enjoy!

Share/Save

Chapter 34: Love in the Time of Stomach Inflammation

Sometimes you hope for romance in China -- and instead, you end up with an IV drip, and your Chinese boyfriend caring for you.

When you’re in love, and only see each other every two weeks, on the weekends, you romanticize every meeting. You want it to be as perfect as a Tang-dynasty couplet, and script out the possibilities even before your lover arrives. You practice a new phrase, such as wàngchuānqiūshuǐ (望穿秋水 – awaiting you with great anxiety), to say when he comes, and might just even stand on the streets with roses to greet him — just as I had before.

After my painful meeting with Mr. Fang, I romanticized the arrival of John, my Chinese boyfriend, on the weekend of December 13, 2002, even agreeing to meet John at the Hangzhou railway station, as if I was starring in some dramatic reunion scene in a movie.

Except, real life often departs from your own script. Sometimes, you hope for romance — and what you get, instead, is stomach inflammation.

I should have felt it coming, the way I inexplicably collapsed into his arms during the taxi ride home. It wasn’t like me to feel so drained. I expected it was simply the lingering stress of Mr. Fang’s confrontation, weighing on my exhausted frame. A good night’s sleep, with John, my Chinese boyfriend, by my side, would surely restore me.

Or not. Continue reading “Chapter 34: Love in the Time of Stomach Inflammation”

Share/Save

Chapter 33: My Chinese Boyfriend’s Dormitory Despair

Door in a Chinese university — John, my Chinese boyfriend, was left in the dark at university when he faced a semester of dormitory despair.

While I faced a spamming dilemma in my company in Hangzhou, my Chinese boyfriend, John, faced a dormitory dilemma at his university in Shanghai.

John lived in a men’s graduate dormitory on campus, an older brick building with four floors that stood next to the school cafeteria. John’s initial dorm room, on the second floor, had a window perched just above some large fan or boiler unit for the cafeteria that looked like a large white mushroom made of metal.

John didn’t mind sharing a room with three others, or the smell of the drab, institutional bathrooms, or even the usual 11pm lights-out, power-off policy typical of a Chinese university. But he did mind the noise of the cafeteria — from that strange unit outside the window — which disrupted his sleep every morning, around 4:30am. Continue reading “Chapter 33: My Chinese Boyfriend’s Dormitory Despair”

Share/Save

Chapter 32: To Spam or Not To Spam

Computer screen in China — To spam or not to spam? That was my dilemma, after the company asked me to do some "international marketing."

By December 2002, I had seen a lot of things at the Chinese Internet company in Hangzhou, where I worked. But spamming wasn’t one of them — until, in mid-December, when my supervisor, Mr. Fang, had a talk with me.

I was already worried when Mr. Fang asked me to follow him to the conference room. And, after I nervously slid into one the black chairs surrounding the solid black conference table, Mr. Fang did nothing to quell my fears.

“So, I was wondering if you could tell me about what activities you’ve been doing at work these days. Ideally, if you could tell me, down to the hour, that would be great.”

It was the kind of thing that “consultants” usually asked, before recommending an employee’s dismissal — except I was the employee, and Fang was no consultant, but my supervisor. “Is there a problem?”

Fang smiled — a meaningless workplace kind of smile that is either there to comfort others, or simply mask the unfathomable emotions within. Either way, I didn’t know where this was going, until Fang spoke the words. “Well, actually, we have a new task for you. International marketing.”

International marketing? Continue reading “Chapter 32: To Spam or Not To Spam”

Share/Save

Chapter 31: An Unintended Splash at the Hangzhou Pool

As a foreigner in China, sometimes you touch people in ways you never realized. Something you say or do in a moment — a small, forgettable thing to you — becomes a lasting impression to someone else.

I didn’t think much about swimming at the Chenjinglun pool in Hangzhou. I’d been going there since September. By early December, 2002, it was just a part of my routine — a way to get some exercise, while my usual gym was closed for renovation.

Chenjinglun was a typical indoor pool in China. It had lanes roped off for lap swimming. Yet, with the evening demand, you often shared a lane with as many as two or three people. I didn’t mind the sharing. But more people together means more collisions — such as getting clipped by a scissor kick, or clobbered by a front crawl.

That’s why my swimming routine also included flexing my language muscles. Because, if anyone got too close to me, or bumped me, I’d let them know with a firm, but polite, “Xiaoxin!” (Be careful) It was simply communication, acting as my lifeguard.

But, in fact, it’s not so simple when you’re a foreigner, speaking Chinese in China. Continue reading “Chapter 31: An Unintended Splash at the Hangzhou Pool”

Share/Save